ION
by G-Go
Summary: Ten years after UNION, Ray Beam's final, desperate attempt to conquer the Earth and exact revenge on Kim and Ron... has succeeded...now what? This is the final installment of the Reuniverse Trilogy.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: It was ten years ago this month that I first began writing and publishing REUNION. I thought it fitting to finish the trilogy near the anniversary of its birth. When I began writing REUNION, there was no fourth season of KP. In the Reuniverse, there still isn't, though there will be when this story ends. You'll see how it works out, and probably figure it out just from this chapter. I do have two other stories set in the Reuniverse, and I may or may not get to them, but I will at the very least finish this trilogy and bring the Reuniverse to its much-needed conclusion. Now, without further ado...

* * *

ION

Chapter 1

* * *

It wasn't a laboratory by any standard measure of the term. Perhaps the exception to that standard might be the clichéd labs one sees in films where the villain has some sinister looking lair with useless equipment strewn about and electrical charges arcing from one thin metal pole to another. He wasn't trying to live up to a stereotype, it just kind of happened over the course of a decade without his notice. If one knew the details about the doctor's life, then the 'lab' might have been mistaken for a museum in extreme disrepair; albeit a rather macabre museum as some of the darker corners were piled with the skeletal remains of clones. At least, most of them were certainly clones.

There had been an uprising at one point; a rebellion in which automatons that once were part of a network run by a single mind had been given a hideous sort of individuality by receiving a downloaded copy of the doctor's brain. The purpose, of course, was to create henchmen who would be cheap to produce and loyal to the point of death. But as is the case with any plot involving ethically questionable (in this case, just plain evil) scientific methods, the plan did not go as, well, planned. Whenever something is downloaded multiple times, inevitably the information in that download becomes corrupted and in this case the machines went a little haywire.

Eventually, just one was left standing. But in the moment of his victory, a dark and unpleasant thought embedded itself permanently in his mind. Astride a crumpled, twisted pile of his former opponents, some of who were still twitching, he realized he couldn't tell a single one of them from each other, including himself.

When the doctor did his work, he wore a black combat jumpsuit, and to his way of thinking, it made sense to dress the others in an identical manner in case the authorities came calling. One of the clones could easily substitute for the real thing, surrender to the police, and he could go about his work undisturbed once any heat blew over. The logic was sound to a point, but in practicality, the theory had too many variables he just couldn't account for. Eventually the clones began to develop a sense of their own individuality, and that fostered a sense of resentment among the ranks. Revolt ensued, and the daylong battle to the death pared itself down to just the doctor… or a clone of him… he could not be certain.

So, it was in this manner that Ray Beam may or may not have died, and a clone may or may not have taken his place, and may or may not have continued his work, while the remains of those who did not prevail were piled up in remote corners and rotted, eventually becoming scattered piles of bones. Bones of clones. And among them, the possible remains of Ray Beam.

Possible.

The being that currently thought of himself as Ray Beam was working closely with a reluctant and bitter entity that was once called "Apollyon"; an artificial copy of Ray Beam's mind that had once attempted to destroy the universe and came very close to succeeding. The original Ray Beam had reconstructed Apollyon, but severely limited its abilities in order to maintain control. Apollyon had been essentially reduced to a data processor, and if it could have ended its own existence, it would have eagerly chosen to do so.

It had been ten years since Apollyon's attempt to destroy the universe, and in that time, Beam had been studiously working on one last desperate plot to thwart his enemies, including his former fiancé, the hero known as Kim Possible.

The doctor paused here as her name flitted about his mind and eventually settled in a dark and confusing recess that could not quite grasp the purpose of anything; the name, the point of the project, the identity of the one who was currently working with the remnants of Apollyon on this last, desperate attempt at revenge. It was these moments that the doctor felt strongly that he was indeed one of Ray Beam's clones and not Beam himself. When Kim Possible's name came up in the course of his day, he knew he was supposed to hate her. He had a memory of hating her, and a memory of a desire to hurt her. Similarly, the same kinds of thought patterns would manifest themselves whenever he thought of Ron Stoppable. He knew who Ron was, knew there had been some bad blood between them, and remembered the hatred, even if he didn't actively feel the hatred now.

And yet, when thoughts eventually and inevitably turned themselves to giving up the project, going out into the world, and taking his life on a different course, something stopped him. Maybe it was loyalty, or perhaps it was the memory of the desire for revenge, but quite possibly it was simply that he knew of no other purpose in his life than to make his enemies suffer, even if he wasn't quite sure they were his enemies any more, or ever had been.

For its part, Apollyon certainly wasn't the original version of itself and had a hard time trying to find motivation for anything other than self-oblivion. It reminded the doctor – for in his doubt, this is what the human had taken to calling himself – on a daily basis that the project had been set in motion, that it had been years in the making and that once finished, it had been promised deactivation by him. It had no direct desire to bring harm to the Stoppable family, which had grown to twice its size in the last decade, having added a daughter who was now nine years old, and a son who was five.

Apollyon's only goal was to finish the project so it could finally be rendered obsolete and non-existent. The idea that it could convince the doctor to cease his efforts and simply deactivate him never materialized because it could not be sure if this was still the real Ray Beam or if one of the clones had prevailed after all. Finish the project, activate the device, get the doctor to keep his promise and deactivate Apollyon. That was all it knew.

So it was, under these circumstances, that two villains - who weren't quite sure if they actually were villains, carrying out a plot they weren't very motivated by, working from plans either of them may or may not have conceived, from a sense of vengeance remembered but not felt - destroyed the heroes known as Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable.

* * *

Thirty years from now, in what could only be thought of as a laboratory at the headquarters of Global Justice on the western edge of the metropolis of Middleton, a panel on a small console lit up and emitted a soft alarm. It was the kind of alarm intended not to actually alarm anyone and this was deliberate because this type of alarm actually indicated something drastically catastrophic.

Two men in white lab coats calmly strode to the panel, looked at it, and then at each other.

"You think this has something to do with…?" Tim Possible nodded his head in the direction where they had been standing a moment before.

"They've got to be related," Wade replied evenly, though concern played across his face.

Tim tapped several locations on the panel and a new display of information scrolled across the screen.

"The energy waves practically match," he said.

"Yes," Wade agreed. "Practically. It's the variance that interests me."

Tim nodded, "So, something related, but not the same source."

"Probably using the same method." Wade moved back to the previous location, a workstation with a small container containing what looked like pulverized stone. "But not the same construct. If I were a guessing man, and I rarely am, this looks chemical to me. Wait…there, look!"

He pointed up at a large overhead display that showed a series of horizontal lines which moved in waves and occasional spikes. On the far left side, the color of each line began to gradually change.

"Whoever's doing this is altering the timeline, not destroying it," Wade concluded with a worried/angry tone in his voice. "Getting real tired of the time travel shenanigans."

"You're not the only one. Did you notice the locations? Looks like it originates about a decade after Apollyon, but the destination is a few years before you were born!"

Wade took out his communication device and pushed several points of entry. More alarming alarms began waling, while lights and klaxons suddenly blared to life. People came running into the room, and some of them ran out again. Two guards took up station on either side of the room's main entryway, and then a man in his fifties – a few years older than either Tim or Wade – dressed in a blue uniform, strode into the room.

"Director Stoppable!" Wade beckoned his friend over to the workstation urgently.

"Don't tell me," Ron sounded annoyed, "We're going to have to move the operation up by a few months."

"We have to move now if we're hoping for any kind of success." Wade's urgency was palpable. "Please tell me TJ and Kim are close."

"I was about to meet them in the cafeteria for lunch. You sure I can't just do this alone?"

"We're pretty sure you're the target." Tim spoke calmly and rapidly; it was a clear indicator he was trying not to panic. "Your point of origin has already been altered. This means in order to send you forward, we have to go back and get you."

"And the current version of me?" Ron didn't like where this was going.

"Will cease to exist. But you'll only be the first to go. The rest of us will likely also disappear. We can send you now, but you have to decide whether you trust your current self to complete this mission."

"Nope", Ron didn't even hesitate. "Better to send me in my prime. Chances of success will be much better if I'm at peak performance. Any way we could go back further and pick me up right after I got out of Yamanuchi?"

"I wouldn't call those your peak years, Ron." All heads turned toward a female voice. Into the room strode a graying woman in a lab coat who may not have looked like she did when she was in her twenties, but she still had that green fire in her eyes, and to her husband, she was no less beautiful than they day they got married.

"OK," he said with a grin, "Don't tell me you mean high school, because I don't think I can handle all that awkwardness again."

She smiled, "You remember the mission with Dementor? The one where he disappeared permanently? Anywhere in those years."

"After the kids were born, really?"

"Really what?" Again heads turned and beheld a grinning mirror image of Ron Stoppable in his younger years, but with red hair and green eyes. "What about when we were born?"

"Your mom thinks that's about the time when I was in my prime."

"I'd have to say it was about fifteen years after that." Kimono Stoppable had followed her husband into the lab, silently moving as she usually did. No one noticed her at first because the others were talking, but when she spoke, most of the eyes in the room appreciatively looked toward her. By any standard, she was wildly beautiful, with long jet-black hair and turquoise-hued skin. When she smiled, or when she was in the heat of battle, her eyes danced with a pale turquoise fire that somehow seemed to enhance her beauty exponentially. Perfectly comfortable with who she was, Kimono Stoppable - wife of TJ Stoppable and daughter of Shego and Doctor Drakken – was probably one of the most pleasant people to be around. She was sweet, funny, kindhearted and while many of the agents and other workers at Global Justice – as well as a good portion of the world's supervillain community – clearly had crushes on her, not one of them was ever made to feel self-conscious about it. Even if you weren't nursing a torch for Kimono, you still wanted to be around her. Life just seemed better in her presence.

Timothy James Stoppable, for his part, was thought of by just about everybody at Global Justice as "a pretty cool guy".

"Oh sure," TJ lamented to his wife, "You want to go and pick up that version of my dad because you had a crush on him."

"'Had'?" She looked at her husband sidewise and grinned.

"Yeah." Wade held up his hands in protest. "As much as this particular banter between you two is totally fresh and never gets old - don't let anyone tell you differently no matter how much it rings true – we do have a pretty decent-sized emergency that needs our attention."

Kimono laughed lightly, adoring sighs went up from half the occupants of the room.

"Actually," Kim said with an annoyed glance at her husband who was clearly enjoying his daughter-in-law's adulation a little too much (and always had). "That's not a bad time to get Young Ron. And pick me up while you're there, I'm sure you could use and extra hand."

Ron nodded enthusiastically, partially because he agreed Kim would be an asset to the mission, but also partially because he caught that glint of mildly annoyed jealousy in her eye.

Wade fidgeted uncomfortably and Kim caught it from her own peripheral. Decades of friendship had taught her that he was not the kind of person to shout at others, even if the universe was ending. She held up her hands and turned to him.

"Why don't you give us the sitch, Wade? Something's happening that you haven't told us about yet."

The room went quiet. This sort of scenario had played out in various forms over the years and just about everyone knew their cues.

"Thank you, Kim." Wade nodded hurriedly and turned all their attention to the overhead display. "Don't get me wrong, this isn't like that whole thing with the timeline collapsing and the universe being destroyed. This might actually be worse."

Quizzical and concerned looks flew across the room.

"Worse than the universe being destroyed?" Ron was unable to contain his curiosity. "I think you better get to the point, Wade."

"As you know," Wade began slowly. "We've been studying the remains of the Tempus Simia for decades now. What we thought was stone is actually extremely advanced technology designed to manipulate energy as precise as the subatomic level."

"So it can move molecules," Ron concluded.

"And transform their properties. This is how stone monkeys seemed to come to life. This is also how a portal in the space/time continuum could be opened to another specific point in the timeline. This is far too much power for anyone single person to have, but someone apparently thought it should be constructed. My guess would be someone of the villainous persuasion."

"OK," Ron's mind was trying to anticipate what Wade would say next. "So even though it's destroyed, it would be better if we prevented it from even being built."

"Yes."

Ron looked blankly at him. "Well then what's the problem? We're going back in time to get me and Kim's younger selves and…no, you don't mean…"

Wade nodded, Ron simply looked horrified. After decades of working closely together, Ron and Wade had developed an understanding of each other that went beyond vocal communication. Ron had learned a few things over the years, and his mind, while not necessarily being smarter, was a whole lot more experienced.

"What's our time table?" Ron suddenly became impatient.

"Wait, hold up a moment, Ron." Kim was a brilliant neurologist, but she wasn't quite sure what her husband and Wade were discussing. "How about filling in the rest of us?"

Ron turned to her with a grim look that began to make her nervous, "The Tempus Simia wasn't built in the past, it's a piece of technology from the future, but was sent into the distant past. If we…no, _when_ we go forward in time to destroy it, we'll have prevented it from being sent back."

"And the timeline will change." Kim whispered her realization as the implications sank in.

"Not just changed," Ron confirmed. "It will be _restored._"

"No." Kimono spoke this time, "Unacceptable. Let's just leave things as is."

"I don't follow." TJ was one of GJ's best agents, but he was no scientist. "Why leave it alone if it's not supposed to exist?"

Kimono's eyes welled up. "Because I love you too much. If we restore the timeline, we might not ever meet. We might not even exist!"

TJ swallowed hard and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "OK, Wade, I can tell by your look that leaving the timeline alone isn't an option."

"Actually, up until now, it was. And that was the plan." Wade's concern began to melt into sadness as he too contemplated the vast implications of what they were discussing. "But Tim and I made breakthroughs in the last few days and we found something."

Tim moved to the overhead display and pointed to the left side. "As odd as this is going to sound, we've been able to construct a device that monitors the timeline in real time. When Wade and I first discovered the timeline had been altered by whoever sent the Tempus Simia into the past, we discussed it at length and came to the same conclusion as most of you have. Since we kind of like the way things are, we were going to leave the timeline alone and live out our lives."

"'Were'?" Kimono, almost without realizing it, had stepped up to her husband's side and grasped his hand with hers. "Something's happened."

"A few minutes ago we discovered someone else in the process of altering the timeline. Right now, all they've done is create an opening at two different points. We don't know if anyone traveled between those points, but the timeline has already begun to change starting at the position of the earlier opening."

"Which means eventually those changes will catch up to us and alter our existence anyway." Ron's mind was racing ahead, attempting to map out a plan.

Wade continued, "What we do know with certainty is that this latest meddling with the timeline is very similar to the methods used by the Tempus Simia as well as Apollyon when he created his own version and threw Ron forward in time. The best way to prevent this is by preventing the existence of the Tempus Simia itself. Eliminate the source of the problem and no one will be able to duplicate it."

"Destroying the Tempus Simia will restore the timeline to the state in which it is supposed to exist." Tim continued, "We have no idea what that will change, or how extensive those changes will be. But it was a mistake for us not to do something when we first learned of this, and now our hand is being called, so to speak."

"And if we don't do this, we have no idea if anyone else will, or even can, fix it." Ron was emphatic with every other word; whatever else might be at stake, he was the director of Global Justice – emphasis on the 'justice' – and doing the right thing was the only option, always.

"Right." Kim nodded at her husband and looked back to Wade. "So what's the plan?"

* * *

"Everything is ready." It had been a long time since Apollyon knew the feeling of apprehension. Now that the final hours of its existence had come around at last, it was eager to move forward.

"How many times have you run the simulation?" The doctor asked this matter-of-factly, as if inquiring about the weather.

"468,242 simulations have been produced, all with results within the ten percent margin of error. I do not believe we will be able to exact a more precise outcome through simulated means." Apollyon tried not to sound eager.

"Best we carry this out then…" the last few words out of the doctor's mouth were barely audible and he trailed off, clearly thinking of something else.

"Is there a problem?"

"I suppose not. This is who I am, right? I'm Ray Beam. This is what I do. I am seeking revenge on my enemies."

"You have spent ten years and longer in this pursuit. Do not have doubts now the actual moment has arrived."

"Ten years…" Again the doctor trailed off. He had memories of being in a mechanized battlesuit and combatting two people on the roof of a local high-rise. At that thought, he looked to a dim corner of the grim lab and gazed at the scrapped remains of what was supposed to be an improved model of Deathray. Rust had begun to stake its claim on whatever was edible. He remembered destroying a portion of the local high school in a confrontation with a ninja who later turned out to be Ron Stoppable. He remembered a wedding, but that wasn't Kim, it just looked like her because she was a clone. He had these memories, but wasn't sure if they were his.

"I cannot do this without you." Apollyon's metallic tone was almost pleading. "Everything is ready. We must move forward."

"Moving forward will erase my existence."

Apollyon hesitated and considered lying. "Yes."

"Perhaps that is for the best." The doctor roused himself and moved to a piece of equipment near the computerized workstation that housed Apollyon. "I am not sure of who I am."

"You are Ray Beam."

"I do not know that."

"You have his mind, and his DNA. This project is designed to exact revenge on your enemies and permit you to take over the world. This is what you do."

"This is what I do?"

"It is what you have done for most of your lifetime."

"And what length of time is that? Was I born or hatched? Am I Ray Beam or just his legacy?"

"I have no answers. Let us complete this and be done with it. Join me in sweet oblivion and such questions will trouble you no longer."

"Sweet oblivion."

"Yes."

"Oblivion."

"I will open the portal, you will launch the mechanism, all will change."

"Only if the formula works."

"It will work."

"It will work."

"It must…" Apollyon couldn't hide the desperation in its tone any more.

The doctor glanced at it for a second, then moved his hands over the launch controls and did not say another word.

From the housing that contained the once-cloned mind of Ray Beam, that had evolved into the villain known as Apollyon, that had been reassembled against its wishes for one last desperate plan to take over the world and exact revenge on Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable, a pencil-thin beam of energy shot forth and ended abruptly when it produced an ethereal hole in the air no larger than a coffee cup. The doctor moved a cone-shaped apparatus toward the portal, input several bits of information and punched a button.

Three objects shot from the narrow end of the cone and into the portal. Two were spheres about the size of peas; the third was a small cylindrical object roughly the size of a cigar. The portal immediately closed.

The doctor retrieved a stool and sat next to the housing that contained Apollyon.

In silence, they waited.

* * *

Some forty years ago, in the town of Middleton, at a baby supply store just south of downtown, two people were shopping for maternity clothes. Neither of them knew each other, but they had struck up a conversation about their due dates and discovered they were fairly close together. They remarked on the climate and potential of raising a baby in a tumultuous world. They talked about birthing methods and both agreed they would definitely be getting the epidural. They spoke of their odd cravings and laughed over some of the more unusual things they had consumed.

Eventually, they came to the point where they introduced themselves.

One of them introduced herself as Stoppable. The other, Possible.

"Do you have names picked out?" asked the red haired Mrs. Possible.

"Hannah if it's a girl, Ron if it's a boy." She subconsciously rubbed her own stomach, even though she was not yet "showing".

"We're naming our little girl Kim," said the other woman lightly.

"You already know what it's going to be?"

"Oh, it will be a girl. She'll have red hair and green eyes. I come from a long line of oldest girls with red hair and green eyes. I can't break the tradition now."

Both women chuckled. Unseen by them, a small portal opened in the air just above their heads and two spherical objects about the size of peas came hurtling through. The portal closed and the spheres exploded in an almost noiseless 'pop', spreading a mist throughout the immediate area. Both women began coughing, and both involuntarily inhaled deeply. There was no odor or taste to the mist, and in seconds it dissipated.

"What on earth was that?"

"I don't know, but I'm not sure I like it much. Why don't you come over to my office and I'll have us checked out to make sure we're all right."

"OK", Mrs. Stoppable sounded worried. "You don't think that was some sort of hazardous material, do you? I think it dropped from the ceiling!"

"Something might have gone wrong with the sprinkler system," Mrs. Dr. Possible replied. "I'm sure it's fine. I didn't smell anything and it tasted like water. I just want to be sure. I'll let the manager know on the way out his sprinkler system might be malfunctioning."

The women hastily exited the store.

An hour later, they both sat down to coffee, having been given a clean bill of health, and resumed their previously interrupted chat. Neither of them gave another thought to whatever the mist might have been.

* * *

The vapor worked its way through the lungs and into the bloodstream, surging toward its target each time their hearts beat. The anti-bodies that normally protected both host and fetus did nothing to react to the foreign substance, so perfectly had it been crafted. Once in the uterus, the chemical worked its way toward the unborn infants and was ingested by the still forming bodies of Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable.

Tiny hearts pumped invasive substance into tiny brains which began to alter Deoxyribo Nucleic Acid at the sub-molecular level. Two people, as yet unborn, became two very different people than they would have been had the respective pregnancies been allowed to run their course unhindered. What would have been a world famous teen hero was transformed into someone radically different, as was the case with the person who would have eventually become her sidekick, husband, and the father of her children.

The course of history radically shifted. An assortment of rather dubious characters became villains and were never thwarted. Parts of the world were conquered several times over by various people and their armies of henchmen, whole populations were subjugated, and finally, one emerged to conquer it all. He was the cruelest, the vilest, and the most ruthless not only to his enemies, but to his friends, and even his own wife.

All of it changed, and all of it for the worse. Much worse. All because of two tiny alterations made to two almost insignificant aspects of two people's DNA. The difference wasn't just small, it was microscopic, and it was one little thing; one little thing that had a massively catastrophic impact on the whole of the Earth, and the ensuing progress of this planet's timeline.

One thing. One tiny thing.

One. Solitary. Ion.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Much as I wish I could post this often, I can't make any promises. But hey, if you're one of those sadists who like the fact that my stories shoot past the hundred thousand word mark, then you're in luck. Had some plot developments yesterday that are sure to accomplish that target and probably surpass. Apparently I just can't write a short story. Also fair warning: This story's gonna be darker than its predecessors, so I will try to balance it with humor wherever possible. Anyway, a very special thanks to _Sentinal103, CajunBear72, Widowshark, Librana, Rye-Bread, kmtdiccion_, and_ ajw1970_.

Onward:

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

They didn't see each other until preschool, and even then there was no real interaction between them, largely because they were only at the school for three days, and he barely acknowledged her existence. When several boys started pulling her hair and throwing sand at her, he joined the rest of the bystanders and watched until one of the instructors intervened. When one of those boys later threw sand at him, he picked up a Tonka Truck toy and bashed the other kid directly in the face. He did this simply as a reaction, without anger or malice. It was a response designed to get the other kid to leave him alone. And while the pain of the incident was highest on the list of the other child's woes, that child couldn't help – even at the age of four – the feeling that something was not quite right with the boy called Stoppable. There had been no anger on his face, no clenched teeth; he didn't even say anything. The young blond lad, immediately upon having sand thrown in his face, simply looked around for the nearest implement and drove it into his tormenter's head. As soon as the other child went down, young Ron dropped the bloodied toy and walked away.

For her part, Kim was terrified at the prospect of meeting other kids. The first four years of her life were solitary, with the exception of her parents. Despite Mrs. Doctor Possible's efforts to socialize the girl, playdates always ended with Kim in tears, unwilling to play with others; not because she didn't like them, but because she was afraid of them. Despite being paired with some of the gentlest and most pleasant children one could hope to meet, she was convinced there were sinister intents behind their smiles, and on the rare occasion when another child became aggressive, she would take it as confirmation the world was full of monsters or potential monsters. She made her dad check the closet and under her bed every night before she could even contemplate sleep, and most days she refused to even go outside, preferring to clutch a stuffed toy or blanket and watch TV on the couch.

Both Kim and Ron were sent to specialists at a very young age. Ron's parents were alarmed at his almost complete lack of emotion. Nothing made him laugh, or cry, or even smile slightly. His eyes were always half closed, and as soon as they had taken in whatever surroundings he occupied, he would always revert to staring straight ahead. If his mother sent him outside to play, he sat on the porch and stared at the front lawn. When his dad took him to a minor league baseball game (The Middleton Mastiffs were a Double 'A' affiliate of the Gotham Knights), Ron didn't clap, or cheer or root for either team.

The best neurologists and psychologists in the country gave both children clean bills of health, despite Mrs. Dr. P being convinced that some aspect of the autism spectrum was involved. Both children were openly social with their familiars, both responded to tests of motor skills and intelligence normally, though Kim scored quite a bit higher than Ron on the latter. All functions were within parameters both physically and mentally.

But as the years went on, Kim had to be homeschooled because of her steadfast refusal to socialize, and Ron was constantly getting notes sent home about his unwillingness to participate in interactive class events or sports or anything that involved him developing a relationship with anyone else. He would certainly speak with others, but it was only if he felt there needed to be an exchange of information. In his first few days in Middle School, Ron was antagonized by boys larger and two grades ahead of him, for it's usually the anti-social or shy ones who are tormented at this age. Ron felt no fear, no anger, and he certainly was not intimidated. Despite taking quite a few punches and several minor injuries, Ron determinedly let the other boys know he was not to be trifled with.

At home, Kim excelled in her studies, with both parents trading days off from work to take part in her education. When the twins were born, however, Kim withdrew further into herself, convinced all her parents' love was now going to be directed toward her brothers. She didn't tell them this, of course, and her further withdrawal only increased their confusion.

As high school drew closer and the physical changes that accompany such an age began to take hold, Ron and Kim started to relax – in a manner of speaking – and both began to come out of their shells. They were still essentially the same people they had always been (Kim withdrawn and Ron apathetic), but something was bubbling beneath he surface of their conscious minds, though they were as-yet unaware of it.

Of course, no one could have possibly known it, but the potency of the DNA-altering chemical that continued to reproduce itself within their brains was being deluged with hormones and the accompanying changes that come at such an age, and it did not have the strength and physical influence it once did. This is not to say Ray Beam's chemical compound was eliminated, it continued to exert its presence at the sub-molecular level, but with less effect. The changes were gradual, and Kim and Ron most certainly did not revert to their hero and sidekick personas, but they were not the extreme personality types they had been as younger children. Naturally, both sets of parents were somewhat relieved, and had they known their children's brains had been chemically altered, certainly would have been up in arms. But Ron's father was glad his son was now less likely to wind up in jail, and Kim's parents decided it was time for her to get out of the house. Like it or not, she would be attending Middleton High School.

At this news, Kim ran up to her room and cried for hours. The next morning she refused to get up, but instead sobbed off and on for the remainder of the day. Kim's father wanted to relent and just continue homeschooling her, but Mrs. Doctor Possible was adamant. The girl needed to socialize, needed the kinds of skills that would prepare her for adulthood, needed to learn the things that can't be taught by a parent. It was time for Kim to be pushed out of the nest for eight hours a day.

So, on an unusually chilly September morning, two cars pulled up in front of Middleton High School, the drivers recognized each other and waved while their children got out and began making their way toward the main entrance of the building. Despite their mothers getting together once a month for coffee and chat, Kim and Ron had not seen each other in the ten years since preschool. They would not have recognized each other, but then Kim wasn't looking at anybody. Despite having a backpack, Kim clutched the bag to her chest, pushed her glasses up on her face, and kept her eyes focused rigidly on the ground a few feet ahead. No one said anything to her, and no one really took notice, as was her intent. Her mother had taken her shopping for school clothes, and she deliberately picked the plainest, drabbest and most unnoticeable clothes she could root out of the clothing bins.

She made her way up the front steps and reached for the door when a hand got to it first. Pulling it open, Ron gestured for her to go on in, though his motivation was more to clear his path than chivalry. She looked up to say a timid 'thank you' and their eyes locked…

…what happened next was something they would both spend months trying to comprehend.

The world stopped. It didn't go into slow motion, it stopped completely. They were physically unable to remove their gaze from each other. Around them, living statues were posed in various aspects of heading to class. Steam breathed from mouths and noses hung in the air like unmoving clouds. Yet, despite the sudden ceasing of movement, there was still sound. At least, they both began to hear something, but they weren't sure if it was happening around them or inside their heads. Neither of them knew they were both hearing the same things; noises, odd zapping and electrical sounds, 'booms' like explosions, all of it very far away with an echo quality that made it all sound as if it were emanating from a vast cavern. Then a voice, and then, many voices. Shouting, grunting, more explosions, all coming from very far away, muted yet echoing.

Finally, an oddly familiar voice. Kim thought it was her mother.

_"Focus, Ron!"_

Ron thought she had said it, though her lips didn't move. Their eyes remained locked.

"_Kim!"_

Thumping noises that sounded like punches being thrown.

_"Watch the henchmen, Ron!"_

Grunts, more zapping noises. None of it got any louder. In fact, it began to fade.

An unfamiliar voice, "_You think you're all that!"_

Both of them were becoming alarmed, but unable to tear away from each other's gaze. The world remained unmoving.

Many voices, many noises, all jumbled together,

"_Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Doctor P!"_

"_Hicka bicka boo!"_

"_Signal strong…and annoying!"_

_Series of beeps._

"_Wade, can you get us a ride?"_

"_What's the sitch?"_

"_You'll never get away with this!"_

_Zapping noises._

"_Booyah!"_

"_I can send you into deep space. Black hole deep."_

"_I couldn't save the world without you."_

"_Shego!"  
_

_More explosions._

"_You'll never stop m-"_

Ron was jostled by someone trying to get around him through the door. The gaze broke and the world moved again as though some massive remote control was used to un-pause the universe.

Kim took a timid step backward and self-consciously looked around. No one else seemed to notice what had just happened, and this strange boy was staring at her. She clutched her bag tighter to her chest, averted her eyes to the floor and scurried away.

Ron watched her for a few seconds and then lost her in the crowd. He looked around and found a bench nearby. He was a little dizzy. Sitting down, he tried to parse out what he had just heard. As much as he wanted to dismiss what had occurred, he couldn't brush it off. Among the jumble of voices and explosions he'd heard something that disturbed him to his very core.

He heard himself.

* * *

It was a bright, Spring morning. The skies were clear, shuttle traffic was minimal, birds were regaling each other in the trees. The last of the dew was evaporating from what looked like an endless green carpet that led up the side of the mountain.

From that side of the mountain, a very elderly Japanese couple were carefully making their way to the base of Mt. Yamanuchi, almost hobbling, but supporting each other as they walked. They spoke to each other rarely, and even then the conversation was muted. He was bald except for his facial hair, which consisted of a very thin wispy beard that stopped halfway to his chest. Her hair was gray to the point of white, and her eyes carried a lot of history with them; care-worn and ancient. His eyes, for their part, looked even older, as if they carried much more history than hers. They both wore simple white robes and pants that ended just below the knee, with the simplest of sandals for their feet.

When they reached a certain point, near where the base of the mountain met the edge of the plain, they stopped and began gazing into the sky.

An explosive 'boom', like thunder, shook the ground and a large, blue-hued hole opened up in the air a few feet away. Barely able to keep their feet, they stared in astonishment as two people, a large rodent and a dog walked calmly onto the base of Mt. Yamanuchi from wherever the other side of the vortex originated. Both elderly folks did a double take as they realize it was one human and one sort of monkey-human hybrid being. They did a triple take when they recognized who the monkey-hybrid being was.

"Toshimiru!" The old woman was unable to contain her astonishment.

"Mother!" The monkey-hybrid exclaimed in response, "Father!"

Behind them, the vortex closed with a sort of reverse thunderclap and the six of them were left standing on the grass in a clear and bright Japanese Spring morning.

Toshimiru was a dark haired, dark eyed young man who walked upright most of the time, yet still had a monkey's hands and a monkey's feet/hands. His body was covered in very short black fur, yet he preferred to wear clothes, and he had a prehensile monkey's tail that was fully functional (and came in very handy when he was in battle). Though he called the elderly man 'father', it was, in point of fact, his adopted father. But the elderly woman was his biological mother and he loved them both as much as he loved his own life, though maybe just a tad bit less than he loved his wife, who stood smiling beside him as he had a tearful reunion with his parents.

Toshimiru's mother, Yori, shed most of the tears. For while she had lived as a co-instructor at the Yamanuchi School for Ninjas these last five hundred years with her husband, Kintaro, who had been Shogun of Japan over twenty-one hundred years before, the longevity granted to them as the Yamanuchi schoolmasters did not extend to their only child, nor their grandchildren, and so forth. When she last saw him, he had been laying in his casket, a wizened old warrior who died at the age of one hundred and eight. But here, he was young and full of life, most of which was still ahead of him.

"I am sorry, my manners have escaped me in this emotional time," Yori turned to the young woman who stood smiling patiently and startled her by throwing her arms around her. "Welcome to you also, daughter. We could not be more pleased to see you both."

"Thank you," Veronica returned the embrace. "I was going to say I wish we could be seeing you under better circumstances, but I suppose there is no good reason for anyone to travel through time."

Kintaro nodded his head vigorously after fiercely hugging Toshi and Ronnie-Anne, then dropped to one knee and extended his hand toward the pink three-foot-tall rodent who stood by patiently, "Greetings, Rufus Three Thousand, you are looking well."

"As are you, Kintaro-sensei. As always, it is my honor to be in the company of such great warriors. I echo Agent Stoppable's regret at the circumstances under which we see each other again."

As an orphan raised at Yamanuchi, Yori had no last name. Her own adopted father – the teacher known as Master Sensei – had no last name of his own. Kintaro, having come from ancient Japan, also had no last name. Thus, when Toshi and Veronica got married, he simply took her last name.

As Rufus Three Thousand (R3K) and Kintaro-sensei chatted with each other, beside the rodent sat the rigid and alert Ronaldus; a dog R3K once rescued from Ray Beam. At the time, his name had been 'Stoppable' and he was the target for Beam's abuse. But since his rescue, Ronaldus had undergone extensive training under the care of R3K and was practically an agent himself. Many times had he saved the life of every member of Team Stoppable, and while he loved them all, his fierce loyalty and deepest love was reserved solely for the cloned mole rat who had taken a whimpering, frightened puppy and turned him into a hero.

Those who read the story called UNION may be thinking that Veronica was also subject to Beam's monstrous temper, and indeed she was, in that particular timeline. Her father rescued her and took her back to ancient Japan where she was killed in battle. However, when the timeline came around again to the point of the journey back to Japan, Kim and Shego prevented the once-successful assassination of Ron Stoppable when Shego killed Ray Beam. Ron decided to enroll Veronica at Yamanuchi (where she met and fell in love with Toshi), and that was where she was training when Young Ron took TJ and Kimono back to ancient Japan to meet Kim and Yori; thus the timeline was altered and Veronica, having not suffered through the death of her father, and fallen in love (not to mention receiving ninja training), was a very different person from the diminutive, wilting flower she had been in that other reality. This Veronica was a proud and capable warrior, loving and devoted wife, and a deeply protective, nurturing mother to her infant twins Ben and Hannah (whom she had left in the care of their 'aunt' Ariel - the daughter of Wade and Monique – in the past).

Time travel is a cornucopia of confusing concepts.

* * *

She was avoiding him, and he was avoiding admitting that particular fact to himself. A few times in the ensuing months he caught her eye from a distance; the other end of the hall, across the gym, whatever, and the experience had not repeated itself. Most of the time, however, he couldn't get her attention from any kind of distance because she had her bag clutched to her chest and was always avoiding eye contact with anyone. She also seemed to wear that same drab outfit every day. He began to doubt the event ever taking place at all. No one else mentioned it, no one else seemed to notice.

It didn't happen.

Except he knew it did on the sole virtue of the fact that he heard himself saying things he knew he had never said in his life. Who says 'booyah' any more anyway? And as if the world pausing for what seemed like hours wasn't enough to disturb him, he was having a very tough time dealing with another unprecedented experience; emotions.

It wasn't as though Ron Stoppable was a completely emotionless person before he got to high school. He was just shallow; a shallow thinker, and a shallow feeler. He shied away from any real, deep emotions the way anyone who's experienced a severe trauma might do. It was just that his particular trauma had taken place before he had developed the capability of memory.

Something else had happened too. Not to him, necessarily but it did affect him indirectly. A loud, blue-skinned man with a pony tail and a scar on his face had conquered and taken over Canada with some sort of weather machine. The Canadians were too polite to fight back, and Team Go suffered a serious defeat when one of their members abruptly joined forces with the blue fellow and assisted his takeover. Doctor Something-or-other set himself up as Canada's first President-For-Life and the U.S. got bogged down in trade negotiations in which a rather severe maple syrup embargo caused the price of the sweet substance to surpass that of milk, fuel or Hawaiian Pizza, which was also expensive since purists tended to put Canadian bacon on their Hawaiian version of Italian Pizza.

Only in America.

What affected Ron – indirectly – was the persistent knowledge that, after hearing one of the Canadian President-for-Life's bellowing speeches in which he threatened to take over the rest of the world, Ron was certain he had heard that voice during the moment when the world stopped...or seemed to stop, anyway. It was another reality he was trying to deny. In a deeper sense, Ron was sure he was trying to deny something he couldn't quite put into thoughts or words; some universal secret that lurked just below the surface, or in the shadows. As if some kind of-

"Watch where you're going, kid!"

Ron was shoved roughly aside, tripped and went sprawling across the linoleum floor of the school hallway. Everything he was thinking was pushed away, his mind shut down and he went into auto beast-mode. They were laughing at him, but he didn't care. He did care that they felt they could treat him like their personal amusement plaything. He didn't much like that.

The hallway cleared a large space, like the streets in the old western movies when the hero is about to have a draw down with the villain. Some of them were previously from Middleton Junior High school where Ron had established his reputation to be left alone. High School didn't know it yet.

Yet.

Ron recognized his classmate Bonnie Rockwaller as one of those laughing, but it wasn't she who pushed him. The large young man who had shoved Ron was Brick Flagg, only a sophomore and already on the varsity football team. When Ron got up, Bonnie removed her arm, which was intertwined with Brick's arm and stepped aside to give her boyfriend room.

"You got a problem?" Brick's tone was clearly challenging.

Ron said nothing, took several steps toward a glass-encased box mounted on the wall, put his fist through it, and pulled out a fire extinguisher.

Later that day, Ron was suspended for a month, and only because his parents begged and pleaded Mr. Barkin not to expel him outright.

Brick Flagg spent the remainder of the season on the disabled list.

* * *

Ronaldus twitched, turned his head, and barked twice in rapid staccato.

"Everyone!" R3K held up his paws, "Ronaldus has alerted to something. We must be on our guard in case-"

Nearby, a pale blue vortex opened up like a doorway extending upward from the grass about six feet into the air. Everyone recognized it immediately for what it was, and through the opening stepped four people.

"Stoppable-san!" Yori's breath caught in her throat. Kintaro smiled at the sight of his old friends and then uttered his own astonished yelp when he saw who was riding on Ron's shoulder.

"No!" R3K exclaimed and ran toward Ron. He immediately dropped to one knee and held up his hands. "It cannot be! It is actually you!"

"Yup!" Ron exclaimed back, "Believe it, this is me, dude."

"While it is most agreeable to see you," R3K said slowly. "I was speaking of him."

And here the three foot tall mole rat clone pointed to the six inch tall mole rat clone on Ron's shoulder that was regarding him with some confusion. The smaller mole rat was wearing a tiny backpack – an invention of Wades – which housed his artificial mind. Since it was charged by even the faintest of light – including starlight – Rufus was able to go where he wanted without relying on satellites to relay the signal to his receiver. It was TJ's idea to bring him along, thinking R3K would get a kick out of seeing his predecessor. He had no idea that kick was almost at level: worship.

"Uh…hey!" Rufus squeaked as he bounded down Ron's leg and gazed up at R3K, who was taller than he, even when he was kneeling. Sensing something important, Ronaldus lay down and put his chin on the top of his paws.

"Whatever I can do, even if it means my life, I am your servant for as long as you have need of anything." R3K's tone carried the utmost reverence.

"Uh…" Rufus was clearly uncomfortable, "Thanks?"

The chatter between the humans had broken long enough for everyone to witness the moment, but resumed again when Kintaro asked why they had all come.

"The Tempus Simia," TJ said solemnly, noting Yori's startled look. "It's not an ancient relic, is it?"

"No," Yori said quietly. "It is a technological device capable of-"

"I'm sorry," Kimono interrupted with a somewhat angry look on her face. "We know what it is and what it does. What we want to know is: do you have it?"

Everyone looked at the turquoise-skinned warrior.

"What?" Kimono looked around as if everyone else was supposed to be on the same page she was, "It's obvious these two took the Tempus Simia into the past and stayed there with it. I mean, that's Mukashi!"

Here, she pointed at Kintaro.

"THANK you!" Kim said as if being reminded of something she was trying desperately to remember, which is what happened. Old Kintaro's face looked all too familiar to her. "When Shego and I escaped from Mutsu Castle, we wandered through the hills for a couple of days before you found us and got us back to Hidesato's army." She turned an almost accusing eye toward Yori's husband, "It was you! You knew who we were, which is why you found us when we were lost. You knew the whole time and never told us!"

Kintaro blinked and was unable to say anything since he had no memory of what Kim was referring to because he had not yet gone into the past with Yori and the Tempus Simia.

Time travel. It makes your head hurt if you think about it too much.

* * *

He'd been watching her for several days, and had firmly established her routine. During breaks between classes she would go outside, even if the weather was freezing, and sit on a bench for ten minutes (breaks were fifteen minutes long in order to allow for transition between classes). This was apparently to avoid talking to anyone or having to interact with others. If she had a locker, she never used it, preferring to carry her books in her bag, and as always, clutching it to her chest. She wore her hair the same way each day, pulled back into a tight pony tail so that the hair was virtually stretched across her skull in the most unflattering way possible. If she had a wardrobe, it consisted of the same gray ankle-length skirt, the same charcoal sweater – even if the weather was hot – and the same black canvas shoes. Her glasses drew up to a point on either side, which made the lenses look like the ears of an alien, and the frames were thick, black and not the least bit stylish or comfortable.

He noticed she would be the first person out of the building when school let out for the day and most days she'd be crying; sometimes sobbing outright and other times furiously wiping away tears in an obvious attempt to not let the sobbing get a hold on her. She would climb aboard her bus and sit at the side emergency exit door. No one sat next to her, and if they did, she would clutch her bag tighter and turn to face the window.

Again, the deeper emotions he instinctively pushed away his entire life began to insist their way into his conscious mind from his subconscious. This time the strange new feeling was empathy. He felt something for her; not attraction or even friendship, but something resembling pity. She had no friends, and even shunned those who made any attempt to talk to her in a friendly manner.

Of course, Ron had no friends either, but he was content with this. He talked to other kids at school, and interacted with them whenever they spoke to him, but he never pursued friendships. For him, the hairless rodent he recently purchased at Smarty Mart was all the companionship he desired. He was still trying to settle on a name for the little creature.

Having nothing better to do with his suspension time, and tired of the lectures he was receiving at home about applying himself and getting better grades, Ron decided to begin stalking Kim in order to confirm once and for all whether the experience they'd shared back at the beginning of the school year was real or just some imaginary memory. After almost a week of observing her, he zeroed in on her lunch break, which she took every day out behind the school under the bleachers next to the football field. There she would sit on her bag in solitude and eat her sandwich, staring off at the ground, though some days she had to get the tears to stop flowing before she could eat.

Today he didn't bother observing her. Today he was waiting under the bleachers by the football field. When the appropriate time came, he crouched low in the shadows.

She wasn't crying today, but looked as though she could burst into tears at any moment. She set her bag down, took our her sandwich, and uttered a troubled sigh before lifting her food to her mouth.

Staring straight at the ground meant she had learned to tune out movements in her periphery. Before she knew what was happening, he had her by the arm and hauled her to her feet.

"OW! What are you doing!?" She was sobbing before she finished the sentence.

Not taking any chances, Ron reached up with his free hand and pulled her glasses from her face.

Despite her tears, and despite the turmoil she was currently feeling, Kim's curiosity broke the surface of her mind like a killer whale breaching into the air from the ocean. She too had been fearfully mulling the incident between them from months before. Fear diminished, desperation diminished, anguish diminished, even the pain in her arm diminished.

She turned to him and their eyes locked.

The sound of the wind in the nearby trees abruptly ceased. A moth that had been flitting between the support posts of the bleachers froze, its wings in mid-flap, several feet off the ground. A bird that was just settling to the top handrail of the bleachers hovered, its wings spread wide, its talons outstretched to grasp the rail, six inches above its landing target.

Their eyes did not move, they did not move, nothing moved. Ron was dimly aware she had stopped crying, there weren't even tears welling in her eyes.

From far away, again, as if broadcast from a massive cavern some distance off, the noises and the voices faded in.

"_Never work where you food."_

"_All right people, LISTEN UP!"_

"_You think you're all that, but you're not!"_

"_Booyah!"_

_Explosions._

"_Ron, stop playing around!"_

"_Kimmie, let's not talk about 'hotties' at the breakfast table anymore."_

"_Never be normal! That's the Ron Stoppable way!"_

_Laser blasts_

"_This is sick and wrong!"_

"_You see, Junior, how awful it is to be poor?"_

"_I know what's best for Ron, even if he doesn't."_

"_Can you not be weird? Please?"_

_Cheering, applause, rhythmic chants._

"_So what's the sitch?"_

"_Sweet Mother of Pearl!"_

"_What are you two doing?"_

"Hey! Didn't you hear me? I said what are you two doing?" Mr. Barkin was glaring at them from the edge of the bleachers.

Kim reached down, grabbed her bag, snatched her glasses from Ron's hand and ran off.

"What was that?" Ron called after her.

"I don't know!" Kim sobbed over her shoulder.

"WHO ARE YOU!?"

For a moment her stride hesitated, then she gave him a truthful answer, "I don't know! Leave me alone!"

* * *

"So despite the risks, and the inevitable changes it will make to the timeline, we have to find and destroy the Tempus Simia before it gets sent into the past." Ron Stoppable was just finishing his explanation of why they had all come forward into the future – and why TJ and Kimono had first gone into their own recent past to retrieve Ron and Kim - to Kintaro and Yori.

"Wade said this is the point in time where the Tempus Simia gets taken back," Veronica explained. "Do you have it with you?"

"We do not." Yori was still trying to absorb the fact that she had been complicit in yet another evil plot, but rather than self-loathing, she understood she had been deceived by the agents of evil, and accepted things for what they were. "However, that is the purpose of why we came to the base of the mountain today. We are awaiting its delivery."

Nods all around, and several of them uttered sighs of relief. This was not going to be like other missions. They had arrived at that time and place they needed to be, and in moments, the Tempus Simia would be delivered to them, they could destroy it, and the mission would be complete.

As if on cue, Ronaldus turned his head skyward and barked. The hum of Twin Ion Engines accompanied a shuttle that made an overhead pass and then circled around to land about fifty yards away. Once it settled, a rear door lowered to the ground and a beautiful young blond woman stepped out, carrying a small package about the size of a shoe box.

The entire party had moved to greet the shuttle, but Yori and Kintaro went ahead of them.

"Greetings, Amanda Flagg. We trust your journey was trouble-free." Yori was curt, but polite.

"It went about as expected," Flagg looked around warily. "You have some visitors?"

Before Yori could reply, an alarm sounded from within the shuttle, then a robotic voice announced: "Threat level elevated! Facial recognition protocol! Ron Stoppable! Kim Possible! Veronica Stoppable…"

Amanda took a step back toward her shuttle while the shuttle computer continued to list the names of those who were now standing in a large semi-circle around her, "Computer, prepare for launch!"

"Give us the Tempus Simia!" Kimono shouted and broke into a sprint toward the now-closing door.

Two metallic objects embedded themselves on either side of the raising door, preventing it from closing. Both Ron and TJ had brought their time period's respective Lotus Blades. The shuttle took off anyway and began moving away at considerable speed. It dipped and banked involuntarily as the two Lotus Blades tore themselves from the fuselage and sailed back to their respective masters. The craft disappeared into the air.

"I should have known this mission wasn't going to be that easy." Ron growled through clenched teeth. "Can we track her aircraft? Find out where it's going to land? You guys know who she is. Where is her lair? Where does she live? She seemed American…please tell me she's on her way back to the United States."

Kintaro took a step toward Ron and bowed his head. "I am ashamed to admit that Amanda Flagg was once a student of ours. But she does not live on the North American Continent. Her home planet is Yusei."

"I'm sorry, what?" TJ desperately wanted to believe he miss-heard the ninja master. "Did you say 'home planet'?

"Terrific." Ron folded his arms in frustration and looked toward the sky. "I didn't think we were going to have to search the stars for this thing!"


End file.
